Saturday, 13 June 2015

Revenge Is Best Served Crazy

This week, Chuck gave a dead body... and not just any old dead carcass; no siree, bob! He asked us to write about a dead body, putting it into the first paragraph and taking it from there! Enjoy.It happened so fast
that I really didn’t know I was dead until I turned around and found my dead
friend from school standing next to me grinning. He stopped grinning when he
knew that I didn’t know what happened, “You’re dead.” He moved and I saw my
mutilated body on the floor.

“Nope.” He shook his
head, “You were sitting at home here watching your favourite television show,
when that dickhead in the truck outside thought to text to his girlfriend.”

Looking up, I saw
huge grill of a MACK truck where my front window should be, “That’s not fair.”

He looked to his
feet where the remains of my vintage teapot collection sat in a shattered pile
of glass, porcelain and pottery, “I know. You were supposed to live for another
thirty-five years, Thea. And I wasn’t supposed to see you upstairs until you
were almost ninety.”

Fury welled in my
gut as I felt … well, I didn’t know how to feel in this situation.

I was dead and it
wasn’t my fault.

A moan emanated from
the cab of the truck and we both looked, “He should be dead too.” I said.

“He soon will be.” He
nodded, “He has some pretty bad injuries.”

“Injuries my arse.”
I snapped, “He ran over me… look at my body! I can’t have an open casket with
my head crushed like that!”

He looked at me, “You
were planning on having a casket?”

“Well, yeah… but I
didn’t want to have people know I was going to be deader than dead.” I walked over
to my body, “Just look at me… it’s going to absolutely destroy my folks.”

“What the hell…?” a
voice asked from above me.

I looked up through the
shattered windscreen, “What the hell indeed! What the fuckin’ hell were you
thinking, texting your slut girlfriend while you drove this shit thing through
my front fence, into my living room and straight into me!” I stormed up to the
front of the truck as the light bulbs in my kitchen exploded behind me.

Bobby flinched, “Holy
crap, you have some power… forgot you were a witch.”

I ignored him, concentrating
on the bastard driver who killed me, “Answer me, you shit!” I punched the front
grill and it caved in as my fist came in contact with it, crunching – crumpling
– under my super-energised anger of me.

The driver was more
awake now, noticing the few strange things going on around him, “Oh my god…”

“God’s got nothing
on you… nothing… you killed me!”

“Thea… let’s go… you
can’t do anything now except scare the shit out of him.” Bobby reached out to
touch me.

“Touch me Bobby and
you’ll find yourself in another dimension.” I muttered.

He pulled his hand
back as he swallowed thickly, “Okay, let’s go with the anger thing.”

The driver opened
his door, and in turn I threw my hand open-palmed at it, making it slam shut, “No,
I want you to stay there.”

“What’s going on?”
he called out, “I want to go home.”

Climbing up onto the
scratched and destroyed step of the cab, I looked straight at him, at his face
lacking understanding of what he had just done, of how much he really didn’t
want to be here, “You stay here, you dick.” I whispered softly.

“Who said that?” he
shouted tears blurring his vision as he shook, “I want to go home.”

I shoved him and he
jumped in his seat, “What the fuck…” he looked around, searching for who just touched
him, not finding anyone around, “Who just shoved me?”

My anger became so
strong, I wanted him to see me, and for a moment I made sure he did. As he
turned and looked out the window of his cab, I was right there in his face, screaming
at him, “You killed me!” before disappearing from the door and appearing next
to Bobby.

“You finished?” he
asked.

Tears filled my eyes
as I felt the loss of my own life now.

I wasn’t going to
come back.

The doctors weren’t
going to be able to help me at the hospital this time…

The ambulance and coroner
showed up and removed my body as the police peeled the driver out of the cab of
truck. He kept on muttering that he saw
a ghost, that her voice was screaming at him all the time now… it was all he
heard, all he saw.

He was going to be
useless to society.

Bobby asked me again
after all the guys and girls of the emergency services and the news crews had
gone home for the day, “Okay, can we go now?”

I looked at him, “Yeah,
we can now.”

“Why did you do that
to him?”

“Bobby, I was a
useful person to society until he killed me. Now, he can’t be useful to anyone
because of me.” I said walking into the light with him, “It’s not my fault I’m
dead, but it’s my fault he’s crazy.”

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I'm a writer.
I'm a reader.
I'm a collector of books and other things as well.
People say I'm interesting, but I think I'm just an average person looking out into a strange old world with my own ideas of what's going on.
There's other blogs I manage as well... go and have a look and see them if you dare.

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